By the time they had taken off their upper garments a crowd had assembled. The news that a hawker was going to stand up against Black Jim circulated rapidly, and caused intense excitement. To the astonishment of the spectators, the bully from the first had not a shadow of a chance, and at the end of the third round was carried away senseless, while the hawker had not received a scratch. A few days later Mark, who, on the strength of his prowess, had had two or three hints that he could be put up to a good thing if he was inclined to join, was going down to Westminster when two men stopped and looked after him.
“I tell you, Emerson, that is the fellow. I could swear to him anywhere. What he is got up like that for I cannot tell you, but I should not be surprised if he is one of that Bow Street gang. He called himself Mark Thorndyke, and Chetwynd said that he was a gentleman of property; but that might have been part of the plant to catch us. I have never been able to understand how a raw countryman could have caught you palming that card. I believe that fellow is a Bow Street runner; if so, it is rum if we cannot manage to get even with him before we go. It seemed to me that luck had deserted us altogether; but this looks as if it was going to turn again. Let's go after him.”
Keeping some fifty yards behind him, they watched Mark to his lodgings, waited until he came out again, and followed him to a public house.
“He is acting as a detective, sure enough,” Emerson said. “The question is, what are we to do next?”
In half an hour Mark came out again. Several people nodded to him as he passed them, but they saw a big man, who happened to be standing under a lamp, turn his back suddenly as Mark approached him, and, after he had passed, stand scowling after him, and muttering deep curses. Flash at once went up to him. “Do you know who that fellow is, my man?” The fellow turned savagely upon him.
“I don't know who he is; but what is that to you?”
“He is not a friend of ours,” Flash said quietly; “quite the contrary. We have known him when he was not got up like this, and we are rather curious to know what he is doing here.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I do; I owe the fellow a grudge.”
“So do I,” the man growled. “Just step up this next turning; there won't be anyone about there. Now, then, what do yer want to know?”